25 Days of Gotham City
by HeroesAmongUs
Summary: Gotham City, the grimy and dirt ridden streets now blanketed by untarnished white snow. The city had finally began to look beautiful. Innocent. Christmas was fast approaching and its citizens, good and evil alike, began to feel its chill. - A group of short stories taking a look at the inhabitance within Gotham City in the lead up to Christmas Day. (Aiko Isari Advent Challenge)
1. Episode 1 - Chill

**A/N: **These one-shots are part of Aiko Isari Advent Challenge, and in the spirit of Christmas I shall try to keep these stories... light and not so, well, dark.

* * *

25 DAYS OF GOTHAM CITY

–

VOLUME ONE

* * *

_Gotham City, the grimy and dirt ridden streets now blanketed by untarnished white snow. The city had finally began to look beautiful. Innocent. Christmas was fast approaching and its citizens, good and evil alike, began to feel its chill._

Episode 1 – Chill

1st December

As the snow fell, one prisoner of Arkham Asylum in particular felt a rare smile snake across his mouth. He turned round and looked out of the small highly reinforced window that had been provided for him. Victor Fries found this very amusing, not that you'd ever see him laugh about it, after all the crimes he'd committed someone had decided to give him a tiny glimpse of the outside world. Perhaps it was more of a punishment than kindness. A look at the world he would never set foot in again, not with out his suit anyway. Cursed to forever see a cruel and corrupt place through a reinforced piece of glass. Much like his prison really, no difference whatsoever.

Victor looked around his cell. Clouds of thick cold air blasted in via several small pipes. This cell had been specially accommodated for his presence. Built from scratch so he could carry on living, much to the guards dissatisfaction, as well as special material that wouldn't shatter from the harsh temperature.

Victor carefully ran his ice blue hand over his similarly coloured bald head and let out a small deep sigh. A part of him wished he was on the outside again, especially during this time of year. Sometimes he was lucky. Sometimes the weather would take a turn for the worst and the snow and ice would fully set in. Cold winds would blow, chilling even the most warm-blooded person, and when that happened Victor Fries would receive his Christmas gift. He would be allowed to finally step out of his suit and breathe the air. He'd grasp the snow and feel it fall in-between his fingers. The frozen air would buffet against his face and he'd feel he could do anything.

Yet all he'd think about would be his dear departed wife, Nora. The last day they had spent together had ended with the first snowflake falling. She'd told Victor that no two snowflakes were the same. Every single one of them were unique. "Just like you're unique to me, Victor. You're the only man for me, my love."

"How I miss you," he mumbled in a regret-filled voice. "Not a day goes by where I don't think about you."

He turned round to face the window once again. An ice man's paradise. Deep out there was their very own snow flake, their love that had been frozen in time and would last forever. "Sleep well, my Ice Princess."


	2. Episode 2 - Cocoa

Episode 2 – Cocoa

2nd December

"The only thing that keeps me warm up here." Commissioner James Gordon said whilst motioning to his mug.

He stood on the snow-covered rooftop of the Gotham City Police Department, wrapped up in several layers of clothing along with a black scarf flailing about in the howling night wind. Gordon looked at the other two officers who were wearing just their normal uniforms had joined him on the roof. One of them was shivering quite badly whilst the other looked like he had somewhere else better to be. "You two ever seen Batman?" He asked.

They both shook their heads.

"Ah," Gordon nodded whilst taking another sip of his cocoa. "I'm sure you've all heard of the stories?"

Officer Jenkins nodded (the one who looked like he had somewhere else to be). "I heard a few things, sir."

"Call me Jim."

They both looked at the Commissioner confused, as far as they'd known he always been one to enforce proper protocols, especially rank.

Sensing their hesitation he began to explain. "The rules clearly state that the vigilante known as The Batman should be arrested on sight. So, what we're doing is illegal, right?"

The two nodded slowly, still confused.

"Well, up here on the rooftop with this giant spotlight cutting a rather distinctive bat shadow in the sky is technically not police property, in fact it may not even exist. Up here we're not cops. We're what you might call a grey area." Gordon smiled to himself. He hadn't fully understood it either when it had first been explained to him. "I believe you were going to tell me a story." He nodded to Jenkins, changing the subject.

"Err, yeah." He shook of his confusion. "I heard that he's not one man. That there are several Bat-Men. That's how he moves so fast from shadow to shadow."

"Funny," Coleman (the other officer) said. "Someone told me he was like what's his face in Metropolis. You know, with the whole speed thing."

"Pfft!" Jenkins dismissed. "He's not an alien... I don't think."

"Tell me something," Gordon said whilst clearing his throat. "Do you trust him?"

The both looked at each other, waiting for the other to respond first.

"To a point." Coleman sniffed. "I mean, I don't think he's all there in the head,"

"Why not?" Gordon asked.

"No disrespect, sir, but he's a nut!" Jenkins boldly pointed out. "He's a giant bat, doesn't matter what he is, be it alien, a group of ninjas or a damn twisted woodland creature. He's not normal."

Gordon felt the hostility exude from Jenkins. This wouldn't do at all. "What does he do?"

"What?"

"What does he do?" He repeated.

"From what I've seen," Coleman butted in. "beat the living crap out of bad guys. Scare them half to death as well."

"Which isn't _so different_ from what we do, sure his methods are..." Gordon paused, trying to think of the right word. "Violent."

"I was going to say unhinged." Scoffed Jenkins.

"He still gets us the bad guys. Keeps the city safe. Sometimes we need the appropriate type of person to combat a certain evil. Gotham herself gave us The Batman, and she wouldn't have done so lightly."

"You speak like he's our last line of defence." Coleman said.

"Sometimes I think he is, son. I've seen him tread the fine line of order and chaos and only just prevail. But I trust him more than any other of these "Superheroes" that roam around."

"Why?" Jenkins asked.

Gordon looked straight past them and off into the distance of the cold unforgiving grey city. "Because he's more than a man, all the stories you hear are exactly the point. He has become a symbol etched into our minds. The name of Batman and everything he stands for will never die. Gotham will always have her Dark Knight to watch over."

A quiet "runch" of crushed snow was heard from behind them along with the familiar sound of a flapping cape that embodied the nights shadow.

Gordon smiled to himself and sipped his cocoa. _And may be Gotham forever be under your watch._


	3. Episode 3 - Milestone

Episode 3 – Milestone

3rd December

"Today is the day I freed my first Zombie." Victor Zsasz sat in a small, darkened dust filled, box room with a large bloodied knife in his right hand. "Yes, it was today." He hissed with glee.

"I was once a wealthy man, but most of all I was happy. At the age of twenty-five that life was violently snatched away from me. Mother and Father died in a boating accident. I was left as an orphan." A single tear scuttled down his cheek.

"I would have traded everything to get them back. No price would have been too high. I begun to slip into a deep slumber of depression. The world was grey. Food and drink all tasted the same and sex felt nothing like it used too. My senses were dominated by pain and grief. One night, purely by accident, I found myself in a casino. I was playing blackjack at a table and best of all I was winning. Such a rush, I was beginning to get feeling back in my meaningless life again. I travelled around the world taking part in various professional tournaments. I would mostly lose, but I didn't care. I was alive once again." Zsasz growled with passion that soon faded away.

"However, it got to the point where I was forced to care about the money situation. I had almost lost everything due to my careless frivolity. In one last-ditch attempt to win back the money I'd lost I bet everything I had left in a game of poker back in Gotham. But I should have known better, my opponent was none other than that vile creature, Oswald Cobblepot. Now I realise that I had no hope of winning. He cheated me out of my remaining money. I remember the stench of his stale cigar breathe wafting up my nose as he cackled. I was tossed out on to the street, alone once again. I decided that was it, my life had finally lost all meaning. I had lost everything. The harsh wind battered against my face as I stood at the edge of Gotham bridge, ready to hurl myself into its icy abyss, when a homeless man brandished a knife at me." His voice began to fill with twisted excitment.

"It glinted in the moonlight, I could tell that it had taken a life before. The filthy man demanded that I give him money. I refused him of course, not that I had any to give, and I jumped towards him. I snatched the knife from his hand and looked deep into his eyes. That's where I saw the truth. A new world was opened up to me. Deep down in this man's soul was a pain that even I couldn't fully perceive. At that split second I saw that no one mattered. Every single person had the same deep incurable pain within. There was only one way to set them free. So I stab him, it felt good, I was freeing this poor man. I stabbed again and again. I felt alive, his spirit rushed through me, it did things to me. Indescribable things. Once he was free I cut myself with the same blade. My first mark."

Zsasz pointed to the one of many scars on his body. He raised it to his lips and ran his tongue across it, leaving a trail of saliva.

"I'm glad I had a chance to tell you all of that." He turned to face a rusted a hospital bed in the corner of the room which was hidden in the shadows. "You just had to know before I release you of your cursed existence... Batman."

"Let me free, Zsasz!" Batman growled rattling the chains around his wrist. They clanged against metal bed posts.

"No, I'm afraid I can't." Zsasz moved closer, gripping his knife tightly. "Goodbye, Batman. Be free."

"Zsasz NO-!" He roared but was cut off by the cold and unforgiving blade. His voice began to gargle and blood trickled out of his mouth.

"Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye!" Zsasz screamed in euphoria. Blood squirted over the walls and himself, sliding down on to the floor creating a puddle of death.

"Hey freak!"

Zsasz opened his eyes slowly. He was still in his cell at Arkham. That dusty old hell hole that was now his home. A guard stood at his doorway with a baton in his hand. He stared at the guard who spat through the bars then strode away. "Merry Christmas, Batman. I'll be seeing you soon." He whispered.


	4. Episode 4 - Tipsy

Episode 4 – Tipsy

4th December

Deep within Gotham sat a neighbour hood that looked as if it had been abandoned for years. Only a few street lamps lit up the graffiti covered walls and cobbled walkways. Every so often a cat would leap from a trash can, knocking it over and causing it to clatter against the floor. This would bring the rats out, three or four of them at a time, to nibble on whatever remains they found within. Despite all this, it was a great place for two cons to hide, albeit a brief pit stop.

Pamela Isley, or Pammy to a certain person, sat cross-legged at a half rotten kitchen table in complete darkness. She tapped her fingers against the table impatiently whilst looking outside the window. Snow had stopped falling. Now it just looked like it was going to rain. A clunk of the door made Pamela jump. She leapt off the chair she'd been sitting on and picked it up, ready to strike any type of intruder that had dared barge their way in. A dull thump was heard, as if someone had fallen over which was then followed by an all too familiar high-pitched giggle.

Pamela cursed to herself. "Idiot child." She muttered.

Bursting through the kitchen door, with a smile on her face as big as a childs in a candy factory, stood Harley Quinn. She juggled several bottles of wine and spirits whilst trying to keep hold of her gun.

"Where the hell have you been?" Pamela snapped whilst brushing her long blood red hair from her face. "You said you were going to scout the area to see if we'd lost Batman and the cops."

"Well," Harley began, Pamela rolled her eyes. "It started off as that, but I thought we'd had a hard enough night as it was and deserved a treat. I plan to stay here tonight. I don't want to get hit by the ugly bat, again." She pouted like a child.

"Aww, Harley." Pamela mocked. "Did the big bad bat hurt you?"

"Yes!" She snapped whilst slamming her gun on the table along with the bottles. "So, tonight I'm going to have a pre-Christmas drink. You can join me if you want Pammy." Harley winked whilst waving a bottle in front of her face enticingly.

"I don't drink." She replied bluntly. "But you go a head, knock yourself out."

"That I shall." She pulled the top off the first bottle and began to glug it down as if it was water.

"How did you get those?" Pamela question, feeling she'd regret the answer.

Harley let out a loud "Ha". "You think I have this gun just for show? I went in, waved it around and walked back out."

"Idiot!" Pamela screamed whilst grabbing her hair and yanking it back. "What if someone followed you, what if someone tipped off the police, or Batman."

"No sweat." Harley grimaced in pain. "I checked."

Pamela let go and snatched a bottle of wine and squinted at the label.

"Don't worry Pammy," She said. "I checked. None of these were made out of flowers. None of your "babies" were harmed... apart me, just now."

Pamela pulled out another chair and sat at the table. "I get the feeling we're going to regret this."

"Why? Afraid you'll end up fancying me?" Harley winked seductively.

"No chance," she snorted. "I know where you've been. In the arms of that crazed lover of yours. What do you see in him Harl? He beats you, he threatens you, he'd drop you at any time if he thought it would save his own skin."

"Because I love him." She squeaked innocently.

Pamela had seen love at work, between a couple, a person and their job and even two pets, but Harley and Joker was not love. "Sweetie, you can't believe that. You've come to me in the middle of the night with a split lip of a broken nose. I've seen you almost drown yourself in tears. He is a psychopath, he feels nothing for you."

A mix of a serious and drunk look flashed across Harley's face, one Pamela had never seen before. "Why do you love your plants? They can't say they I love you back. They don't keep you warm at night or tell a joke to made you smile again. You just do, and you can't explain it. It's chemical, almost as if it has been written in stone and pre-planned by some higher power. Sometimes it can make no sense whatsoever but you don't question it, you just go with the flow. Mr. J is my life, no matter how bad he hurts me I know that deep down I am the only one that reached out to him. He'll be out soon, you'll see. We have it all planned out."

Pamela watched Harley as she made quick work of the rest of her second bottle and moved on to the third. Harley's words swimming around in her head, maybe love doesn't need to make sense. A loud burp and hiccup from Harley startled her. Pamela watched as the drunk woman laughed uncontrollably, then proceeded to fall off her chair. _Then again, she could just be nuts. _She sighed.


	5. Episode 5 - Awkward

Episode 5 – Awkward

5th December

"Ah, the bastard. I should claw his eyes out." Catwoman hissed whilst holding her shoulder. Blood trickled out and down her black leather costume. Tiny droplets would hit the snow causing it to turn a slight pinkish colour.

She proceeded to run down the alleyway. The sirens had finally left the air along with the cries of the police. She slumped down against the wall still clutching her shoulder. "What a mess, what is a girl to do?" She sighed loudly, whilst mimicking a stereotypical damsel in distress.

The alleyway remained quiet. She forced a cheeky smile across her face, desperately trying to ignore the pain throbbing through her. "If only I had a man." That last word seemed to leave her mouth like poison.

A crunch of snow made her turn round. She saw a familiar black figure in the shadows. "Curiosity killed the cat." A gruff voice said.

"Pfff," she dismissed. "how cliché. You think I haven't heard that one before?"

The voice responded with a growl.

"So, what's it going to be Batman?" Catwoman said whilst hauling herself up. Her face would twitch with pain, but she'd brush it off. She was tough. "You going to chase me across the rooftops? We get into a scrap, I end up on top..."

"You're bleeding." He said, a gruff voice with concern was a strange-sounding one.

"A stray bullet from one of those pigs back there. My fault I guess, I tripped the alarm."

Batman walked closer. Tiny snowflakes landed on his black armored suit. A spot of white against the darkness. "You need medical att..."

"Oh boo," Catwoman huffed. "It's all serious with you. The bat with no sense of fun." She slowly sauntered towards him and pressed her body against his. "I wonder how your other senses are?"

He grabbed her bloodied shoulder and gently squeezed, it was still enough pressure to inflict pain. "My senses are fine Selina, especially my pain threshold, how's yours?"

She hissed and grabbed his wrist. "Bastard. That's not how you play."

"Let me help you." Batman said.

She hadn't heard him say those words before. "Excuse me?"

"You're losing blood, I doubt you have the tools to fix yourself. I could drop you off at the hospital." He mocked. There was something different about him tonight, something she couldn't put her finger on.

"I don't need your help. I'm not a defenceless little girl." She told him.

He didn't reply for a moment, he just towered over her like a statue carved from fear. Batman slowly reached inside his cape and pulled something from his belt. "Get in the car."

"Either I've lost more blood then I thought or you're delusional. You little toy car isn't here." She replied sarcastically.

He pressed a button on the small box he had in his hand and it let out a bleep. Blinding lights illuminated the alleyway, instantly destroying the cloak of shadows it had been hiding in.

_How? _Catwoman thought. _How does he do that, I just walked through there and it was empty._

Something that resembled a smile, but couldn't possibly be called it, slide across his Batman's face. "Get in the little toy car." He mocked.

She reluctantly got inside. The shakes were beginning to set in from the loss of blood. She knew it wouldn't be long till she felt sick, and possibly was, then she'd feel faint, then die. That was only if her wound remained untreated of course.

It hadn't been a long trip back to the cave, either that or she had blacked out and missed most of it. This wasn't the first time Catwoman had been in the cave, or the bat-cave as she called it. As she stepped out of the car her legs felt weak and as if they'd give way at any moment. She pulled her leather mask off too revile a very pale looking Silena Kyle. Her short black hair was matted to her forehead from sweat. Batman picked her up, much to her distaste, and put her on a futuristic looking bed that was hidden away in the corner of the cave.

"This your hospital wing?" She murmured.

"Go to sleep." He ordered her softly whilst putting a gas mask over her mouth.

"Always one with words." She mumbled back, slowly drifting into a slumber.

When Selina awoke again she was greeted by Batman who was sitting in a chair watching her like a hawk. He was still in wearing his suit bar the cape and gloves which were replaced by medical ones.

"My hero." She said groggily whilst slowly looking at her bandaged shoulder. "Wait, whose top am I wearing?"

"I had to remove the top half of your costume to operate on your shoulder. You're free from infection and you didn't lose much blood. You clot quickly."

She weakly laughed. "Was that a compliment?" Then something struck her. A simple question that she should have asked straight away. "Why did you do this?"

He didn't answer.

"You care about me." She whispered as she could feel life slowly return to her. "You do don't you? You care about this little ol pussy cat. You could have just left me in the snow, dropped me off at the hospital for the police to arrest me. That's what this is all about. All these years of us playing cat and mouse together. You had every chance to put me away. I've seen what you've done to your other rogues, yet you've always treated me differently. Do tell, why is that? After all, tis the season." She winked whilst leaning into him and gently pressing her lips against his. Desire had taken over them as they fully, and finally, embraced each other.


	6. Episode 6 - Freedom

Episode 6 – Freedom

6th December

"On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me a life sentence at Arkham." Joker sung whilst peering round a corner in the supposedly maximum security wing of Arkham Asylum. He hummed the 12 days of Christmas tune to himself softly whilst liking his lips like a snake.

Two guards began to walk down the grim hallway, both completely oblivious to the fact Joker was hiding around the corner. The maniac jumped out at the first guard, covering his mouth with his grubby hand and sharply twisting his neck. He then cupped his hands together and smashed the second guard across the head and then proceeding to break his neck. The flurry of death seemed to happen in a matter of seconds.

"On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, two stupid guards and a life sentence at Arkham." He picked up a gun the one of the dead guards had. Joker noticed a silencer attached to it. A twisted smile ran across his red, scarred lips. "On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, three broken bones," He remembered how Batman had snapped them in his arm and how they had finally, and painfully, healed. "two stupid guards and a life sentence at Arkham."

As Joker walked past the rest of his block he past several other sleeping inmates, he scowled at them viciously. "On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, four mental cell block mates, three broken bones, two stupid guards and a life sentence at Arkham."

His stay in Arkham hadn't been a complete hell. He'd dreamt about how he would murder Batman and humiliate him. How he'd finally best him. These thoughts had warmed his black heart. "On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, five CRRAAAZY dreams, four mental cell block mates, three broken bones, two stupid guards and a life sentence at Arkham."

As he continued to trudge the surprisingly empty hallways, occasionally ducking and diving out-of-the-way of a security camera, he remembered the Doctors. They had foolishly tried to help him, prying into his sick and twisted mind to figure out why he did those terrible things. They must be punished.

"On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, six butchered Doctors, five crazy dreams, four mental cell block mates, three broken bones, two stupid guards and a life sentence at Arkham Arkham."

He began to hear footsteps from the distance. Joker madly looked round for a place to hide but there was no where. Only way was back and he wasn't staying in that cell again. An evil glint shone in his eye and he ran towards the footsteps. It was a group of orderlies all chatting without a care in the world. They were in his way, so Joker opened fire. "On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, seven murdered orderlies, six butchered Doctors, five crazy dreams, four mental cell block mates, three broken bones, two stupid guards and a life sentence at Arkham."

An ear shattering alarm began to ring and lights flashed a danger red. He locked up and saw a camera pointed straight at him. He pulled a mocking sad face then shot it. Joker ran towards a large door that swished open relieving several different paths. He knew where each one led. Frantic foot steps and shouting grew closer causing him to check his gun. "On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, eight bullets left, seven murdered orderlies, six butchered Doctors, five crazy dreams, four mental cell block mates, three broken bones, two stupid guards and a life sentence at Arkham."

The foot step were almost right on top of him. "On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, nine ways to escape, eight bullets left, seven murdered orderlies, six butchered Doctors, five crazy dreams, four mental cell block mates, three broken bones, two stupid guards and a life sentence at Arkham."

He took a right and ran down the hallway, only to crash into an unsuspecting guard. They uncontrollably slid across the floor both losing their guns. Joker jumped to his feet and leapt on top of the guard with animalistic rage. He noticed a knife attached to his belt, and with one swift move yanked it free and manically stabbed the guard whilst laughing. "On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, ten times of stabbing, nine ways to escape, eight bullets left, seven murdered orderlies, six butchered Doctors, five crazy dreams, four mental cell block mates, three broken bones, two stupid guards and a life sentence at Arkham."

Arkham was now on full alert. "On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, eleven alarms ringing, ten times of stabbing, nine ways to escape, eight bullets left, seven murdered orderlies, six butchered Doctors, five crazy dreams, four mental cell block mates, three broken bones, two stupid guards and a life sentence at Arkham."

Bullets began to fly through the air causing Joker haul himself up and really pick up running speed. He ran towards a dead-end. The guards began to shout abuse to him as they laughed at his mistake. Suddenly the wall blew. Rubble flew everywhere. "On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, twelve seconds to freedom, eleven alarms ringing, ten times of stabbing, nine ways to escape, eight bullets left, seven murdered orderlies, six butchered Doctors, five crazy dreams, four mental cell block mates, three broken bones, two stupid guards and a life sentence at Arkham."

He flung himself towards the hovering helicopter that had created the escape, just grabbing hold of its skid. As it flew off into the distance all that was heard was insane laughter.


	7. Episode 7 - Night Lights

25 DAYS OF GOTHAM CITY

–

VOLUME TWO

* * *

_As the frozen nights set in, Gotham shivered. Frozen fingers of ice began gripped at its heart._

Episode 7 – Night Lights

7th December

"I smell the meat sacks above my head." Killer Croc growled. His voice echoed throughout the murky sewer tunnels.

He flexed his rotten green claws that let out a dull bone clicking sound. Just above him was a rusted ladder leading to the surface. Something that he'd began to associate with pain. Every time he'd step foot up there, a certain night creature would slap him around.

"No more." He mumbled as he began to climb up the rusted ladder. It squeaked and squealed as it tried to hold his weight.

Croc reached out and pushed the manhole cover up the smallest amount and peered through it. Two sharp eyes looked out and surveyed the area. The street was bare, only a few parked cars that were half hidden by snow. He pushed the cover up higher and let out a low inhuman growl.

Just then he saw a black shadow fly across the corner of his eye. Croc pulled the lid down and covered the hole as he slinked back down. The splash of putrid water clung to his scaly body. He ran down the tunnel, his tail swinging from side to side, occasionally slamming against the claustrophobic walls.

He skidded to a stop causing a wave of water to almost drown a nearby rat who squeaked loudly. Croc hushed it. "Quiet, little thing, or my teeth will strip you bare." He took a deep breath and hauled himself up the ladder like before. "I need food." He grumbled. "A Christmasy hobo will do. Merry Christmas Waylon."

The same as before he carefully lifted the manhole cover and peeked out, he even held his breath to remain absolutely quiet. But the rat below had other ideas and began to squeak loudly like an alarm. "Dammit!" Croc roared.

Once again thought he saw a shadow zip across the cold night sky. "Freaking bats everywhere!" He said whilst jumping back down and landing next to the noisy rat. He looked over at the tiny thing and growled. "I know who you work for, tell your master I'll eat him if he keeps sending you lot after me."

The rat scarpered off into a nearby crack in the wall. Once again Croc found another manhole entrance and climbed up it. "No more bats, no more bats." He grumbled.

For the third time he lifted the lid up and peered out. Nothing in sight. Croc slowly squeezed his hulking frame out of the small hole and sniffed the air. The stench of flesh, or food he'd call it, wafted up his nose. "Finally, Christmas dinner here I come."

Just as he set one claw in front of the other a small pointy, bat shaped object, flew from the sky and wedged itself into the ground in front of him. He instantly knew what it was and what was going to happen next. Croc sighed, but it came out as more of a depressed growl. "All I wantted was Christmas dinner."


	8. Episode 8 - Fluffy

Episode 8 – Fluffy

December 8th

–

A poem by Jervis Tetch.

–

Oh fluffy snow,

How I feel your chill,

You make me want to yell callooh! Callay!

I see you in darkest night,

Fall from the heavens,

Yet people see you as a terrible blight,

You cover our streets, you fluffy thing you,

Children play,

Adults moan,

Where, why and who?

Little Alice can't go and play,

No, no, no!

She should be let out in finer times, more like May,

But there she goes, Cheerio!

No one can stop little Alice,

Good for her,

There she builds her snow palace,

Looking back saying, ner, ner!

I wish I could play in the snow,

But here I am, all alone,

I think I'll have a tea party,

That's what I'll do,

I'll invent some friends too,

Where's my biggest fan?

Where is The Batman?


	9. Episode 9 - Posture

Episode 9 – Posture

9th December

"Ho, ho, ho! And what would you like little girl?" Santa Claws asked the small five-year old sat upon his large knee.

"I would like world peace." She smiled brightly.

"Ho, ho! Well that's very noble of you little lady, but I have a sneaking suspicion that there is also something else, am I right?"

She nodded shyly. "It's an Ultra drawing centre, the one that has all the stencils."

"Well," He smiled whilst stroking his surprisingly real looking beard. "seen as you've been a good girl this year, I'm sure I could fit it on my slay."

"Thank you, Santa." She smiled whilst hopping of his knee towards her Mother who waiting. "Merry Christmas!" She called out to him.

"And to you as well, my dear." He boomed back.

One of Santa's tired and rather spotty looking elves walked over towards him and said that it was getting near closing time at the store and they needed to pack up. Santa waved goodbye to the other children who were still in the line and told them he'd be back again tomorrow. This seemed to remedy their disheartened little faces. He waved them away as he walked through a door that had "Staff Only" on it for most of the year but this time it read "Santa and his Elves Only."

It led to a dull looking hallway that sectioned off into various rooms and a staff lounge. As he walked through he still carried on with his Merry Christmas's to various other employees as he headed towards the changing rooms.

"Would you look at that." Keith said, who was sitting in the lounge with a coffee in his hand next to his other staff members, Chris and Mike. "He's still carrying it on."

"You say that every year." Chris mumbled, who was reading a magazine.

"I know, but I can't get over it. All the Santa's before him couldn't wait to get out of that damn costume so they could swear, drink and smoke again. This guy's like... the ultimate performer."

"You know what he reminds me of?" Mike said whilst taking a huge bite from a sandwich that he'd decided not to eat at lunch. "You know that movie?"

Chris rolled his eyes and Keith sighed in dismay. "Yes, I know that exact movie, because I can read your mind."

"That one about Santa."

"Once again, you're still not being clear." Keith told him.

"It's about this guy being Santa and... you know."

"Bad Santa?" Chris chimed in, looking up from his magazine.

"No, but that is a good movie. It's the one where he is Santa all along."

"Ohh," Keith said snapping his fingers. "Miracle on 34th Street."

"That's the one!" Mike beamed. "Well, what if that guy is like him?"

"What he's Richard Attenborough?" Keith exclaimed in surprise whilst spinning round in his chair to try to get a closer look at him.

"Idiot." Chris mumbled. "Could have been Sebastian Cabot, but no one remembers the classics."

"No! But what if he's someone like that, someone who actually believes he is Santa?"

Keith pondered this. "Don't you have to go through checks before you do all this? You know, background and all that. They don't let nutters in here."

"They let that creepy Janitor work here." Mike pointed out. "Heard he ate a live duck once."

"That's a rumour." Keith dismissed.

"Actually that is true," Chris interjected. "He was part of a travelling circus and that was his act."

Keith shivered in disgust. "Look, guys, I'm sure this Santa guy is just good a what he does. Next you'll be saying he's the Anti-Christ in disguise."

Within the small dressing room Santa stood in front of his empty looker. All that was inside was a mirror. The large jolly man literally melted away into a middle-aged depressed looking man. Basil Carlo stared at the mirror only to see a pair of dull sunken eyes look back. "The perfect role," He mumbled lifelessly. "to show Gotham, I'm sorry."


	10. Episode 10 - Cracks

A/N: Inspired by Frank Miller's All Star Black Canary

Episode 10 – Cracks

10th December

_Wise cracks. There's always one smart arse who thinks they're funny. Thinks they're top of the bloody world. _Black Canary thought to herself in her strong Irish accent. _I suppose I kind of asked for it if I dress like a sodding prostitute. What would Mammy and Pappy say if they saw their little girl now? Community service my arse. I don't see that Bastard, Batman here._

It had only been a week ago that the police decided to crash a drug smuggling ring that Batman and Black Canary had been in the middle of violently breaking up. He, as usual, escaped, but she hadn't been so lucky. One of the drug runners caught her off guard and struck her across the head with a pipe. Dazed and confused, several policemen jumped her. Next thing she knew was being in the back of a police van in cuffs.

Batman had not come for her. Not that she wanted him too, as she'd keep telling herself. She'd spend nights in her cell without that one phone call or even a lawyer. Everyone seemed to ignore her unless they were sliding food through the hole which was met with a torrent of abuse.

The so-called trial had been held in a private room with out a jury. Just a judge and several officers, once again pointing guns in her direction. Community service was the punishment. At the time she hadn't understood why. In fact she hadn't understood anything that had happened in the past week.

_Judge must have had the hots for me. Silly bugger got all aroused when I walked in. I suppose this is better than prison. Not much mind you._

"Hey beautiful, fancy keeping me warm tonight?"

Black Canary looked at the ragged man in front of her. A homeless guy that Gotham had forgotten about and cast to one side. The only time he was cared for was when this particular shelter opened at Christmas time. After that it was man verse world once again. A part of her felt sorry for him, then again, another part was disgusted.

"I'm going let that one slide matey. Here's you soup." She said whilst forcing a smile. It was bad enough she had to serve soup in this shelter for another week, whilst wearing her costume, but now she had to be hit on as well?

"Sure I can't tempt you? Your butt could keep us both warm." He winked.

She squeezed the ladle tightly, it dug itself into her hand. _Little shite._ "Why don't you come here sweetie, I got something special for you." She cooed, with and evil smirk across her red lips.


End file.
